


What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

by Redlance



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redlance/pseuds/Redlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe finds something disturbing in the basement of the Bella house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : I own neither the world of Pitch Perfect, nor the characters that inhabit it.

* * *

“Guys, there's no hot water,” Stacie announces, traipsing down the stairs and into the living room wearing nothing but a towel and a frown. “And I have a date in two hours.” Chloe tips her head over the back of the couch to catch Stacie's eye and Beca turns in her seat beside the redhead on the couch. Cynthia Rose sits across from them, eyebrows quirked as she takes in long legs and bare shoulders. “It's probably...” Stacie halts, biting her lip as her gaze darts from woman to woman, “the pilot light.”

 

“Oh, hell nah.” Cynthia Rose throws a hand up, waving it back and forth through the air like she's trying to ward off a swarm of bees or flag down a cab in the middle of New York. “I went last time, ain't nobody making me go down there again and definitely not on Halloween.”

 

“No, no, hey,” Beca cuts in, warningly, “we'll decide like we always do.” Chloe shoots her a sidelong glance that has no rhyme or reason. “Rock, paper, scissors.”

 

“Man, I hate this game.” Cynthia Rose brushes her palm over the top of her head as she gripes. “Scratch that, this game hates me.” The three of them extend their arms and wait, finally turning to Stacie when she doesn't put her hand in.

 

“I'm in a towel.” And the pout she flashes them shouldn't be as effective as it is, but it's Stacie and not a single one of them have met someone capable of denying her charms yet, even among the Bellas. Beca rolls her eyes and turns back to the other two.

 

“After three-”

 

“On three, or after three?” Chloe interrupts with a grin and Beca shoots her a glare, not bothering to answer before she counts.

 

Cynthia Rose is perhaps the most surprised out of all four of them when she comes out on top, her rock smashing through Beca and Chloe's matching set of scissors. Beca throws her head back with a groan and cracks one eyelid open when she feels a hand on her knee. Chloe's there, leaning across the space between them with a smile.

 

“At least we'll go together?”

 

* * *

 

It's not as though Beca actually believesin ghosts. Except for the part where she's sort of terrified by the idea of them and just refuses to admit to it. So it's not really a belief, but rather a carefully managed superstition. The basement of the Bella house **is** all kinds of creepy though and she has, maybe, once or twice, encountered noises and such that seem to drift out from the darkest shadows. That doesn't mean it's **haunted** though.

 

“Ladies first,” Chloe chirps hopefully from beside her and Beca tilts her head back a few inches to stare at her with raised eyebrows.

 

“If you're really going to try and play that card, then we need to sit down and have a serious talk about your delusions, because out of the two of us,” Beca waves a finger back and forth between them, “you're definitely the lady, m'dear.” Chloe purses her lips as she seems to mull over Beca's words for a moment.

 

“I will... concede to that.” Beca's smile is one of triumph but it's almost wiped off of her face by Chloe's hand, which only narrowly misses her face when Chloe throws it up to stave off any potential comments that Beca might wish to make. “But then you should do the gentlemanly thing and go on ahead of me.” Dark blue eyes regard Chloe, who's doing her very best to rock the innocent preacher's daughter expression, with a grave kind of seriousness. Then she's wrapping an arm around the redhead's waist and moving them forward onto the top step of the staircase together. They stand there on the tiny landing, pressed together as Beca reaches out with her free hand and pulls the string dangling at the side of her head.

 

 

There's a tiny light at the top of the staircase bathing them in a yellow glow then and a switch at the bottom that turns on the main fixture for the basement. It's the space in between that concerns most of the girls. That off-putting patch of total and complete darkness that could be hiding something sinister. Like Lilly or a bear trap, or **something else**.

 

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe half gasps, her words close to Beca's ear, and Beca turns her head to find her smiling devilishly. “Is this all an elaborate ruse for you to get close to me?” She pointedly taps at the hand Beca has wrapped around her hip, prompting the brunette to let go with a disgruntled huff.

 

“If manhandling you is the only way to get you to come with me-” Chloe gasps again, cutting Beca off, and this time it's threaded laughter.

 

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” She asks and Beca squints at her until Chloe bats her eyelashes. “You have to at least take me to dinner first.” She winks at Beca then, watching the way her expression changes as she thinks back on what she'd said.

 

“Gross, dude. No. God, you're such a...” Beca breaks off with a shake of her head, but Chloe's gaze remains fixed on her profile.

 

“Such a what?” She prods, smile stretching as Beca presses her lips into a thin line before parting them again with an audible pop.

 

“Horn dog.” Beca avoids any kind of eye contact by peering down the staircase, but she hears Chloe chuckle next to her and feels her bump their hips together.

 

“You love it.” Beca doesn't bother dignifying that with a response and instead begins to descend. “Wait, wait, wait.” Chloe's hand is at her back, fingers twisting in the loose material of her shirt.

 

“I am less than six inches away from you,” she gripes, but she stalls long enough for Chloe to join her on the step and lace their fingers together. “You good now?” Glancing askance, Beca sees the redhead nod and then they're moving in unison. They make it about two thirds of the way down before they hear it.

 

A scraping sound, like a metal rake against concrete, that's loud enough to rattle the teeth inside their heads. They immediately halt and Chloe's hand tightens around Beca's.

 

“What... was that?” Chloe mutters, her lips close to Beca's ear, and Beca is sure that the shiver that runs down her spine has nothing to do with that. Not trusting herself to speak, Beca shrugs as she strains her hearing, trying to pick out anything out of the ordinary. After a few seconds, the scraping comes again and Chloe's grip on Beca's hand turns hard enough to crush bone. Clenching her jaw, she inhales with a hiss but doesn't pull her hand away, just deepens her frown as though she can bury the pain in the wrinkle between her brows.

 

“Is someone down there?” Beca calls out and Chloe suddenly spins to face her, slapping furiously at Beca's upper arm with her free hand.

 

“Ow! What the hell!” Beca barks, turning so that her back takes the few final hits, and Chloe's glare seems to be radiating actual heat. “What is wrong with you?”

 

“ **Me**?” Chloe gasps, outraged, giving Beca one final slap for good measure. “ **I'm** not the one calling out to God knows what or who might be living in our basement. Have you never seen a horror movie?” The level of exasperation coming off of Chloe is enough to tug Beca's lips into a smirk and she rolls her eyes with a shake of her head.

 

“Yeah, no.” And she starts off down the stairs again, only to feel Chloe's hand grabbing at her arm and pulling her to a stop. It also almost pulls Beca off balance and she has to clutch at the railing to prevent a spill. “Dude!”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Chloe is staring at her with wide eyes and Beca has no idea why this has surprised her.

 

“I have literally no reason to make this up.” She kind of wishes she did though, because the expression Chloe's wearing right now is the kind of thing she'd like to prolong.

 

“How is this possible?” Incredulous with a touch of outrage and there's a glint to her gaze that warns Beca of things to come.

 

“People can barely get me to watch regular movies, Chlo,” she points out, lifting the hand Chloe isn't clinging to to scratch at her neck. “Why would I waste my time on ones that focus on mute, half-giants in masks, that spend ninety minutes running around after promiscuous teenagers who are too dumb to just call the damn cops?” Chloe gapes at her, open-mouthed.

 

“Because it's **fun**.”

 

“Yeah, I think I'll-” the scraping, scratching sounds again, twisting higher until it sounds almost like a shriek. “...Pass,” Beca finishes uncertainly, staring down into the shadows before sending her attention to the light switch on the wall that she still isn't quite within reach of. The hair on the back of her neck is on its tiptoes and Chloe is trying to to weasel in behind her, almost pushing Beca off the step.

 

“I...” a rare pause of thought for Chloe, who hardly ever stumbles over her words, “maybe we should call the gas company.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Beca agrees, breathless and quick, “let's do that.”

 

They're back upstairs in record time, each of them fielding apologies to Stacie, who rolls her eyes but isn't about to go down into the basement herself. Chloe disappears to call the necessary people and Beca watches her leave. She has a feeling that this won't be the last time she sees the redhead today.

 

It's not a bad feeling.

 

* * *

 

When Chloe all but tackles her, pushing her down onto the couch and throwing a blanket and a handful of DVDs at her, before wandering back towards the kitchen to make popcorn, she reconsiders that.

 

It's not **that** bad a feeling.

 

* * *

 

When Chloe picks between the two movies Beca had decided “looked least boring”, dropping it into the tray and then diving under the blanket to cuddle up to Beca, it sort of shifts.

 

Changes into a different feeling entirely.

 

And this one never feels bad.

 

* * *

 

She's totally fine for the first twenty minutes. Maybe even the first thirty. But then the score changes and everything turns tense and loud, and she jumps twice in rapid succession, pulling a chuckle from Chloe.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah it's... the dumb music. Why do they do that?”

 

Things calm down for the little while, but then the knives and machetes come out and the blood starts flowing, and Beca can feel her heart inexplicably thumping behind her ribs. Her hands keep clenching and relaxing, the line of her spine rigid with suspense, and when the tall jock gets it in the face, she actually emits a **noise**.

 

“Bec-”

 

“Shush, I'm watching.” She can hear the smile in Chloe's voice, doesn't need to be facing her to know it's there, and so she keeps her eyes trained on the television set, even though that's really the last place she wants to be looking right now. She's not squeamish, or she didn't think she was, but there's something about watching someone's insides fall to the outside that has her shifting in place.

 

The scene cuts to a woman trying desperately to remain quiet as she skulks around the old farm house, dark without electricity, and tries to make her way to the front door. Beyond which lies the vehicle she and the rest of her group had arrived in and the promise of escape. The camera hangs on her for a long time, following her painfully slow journey until she's in the front hallway, and suddenly she can't wait any longer. Beca can see it on her face. She stands suddenly and Beca has to resist the urge to shout for her to stop, because she will **not** become one of those people, and then she's running for the front door.

 

Violins shriek, almost drowning out the other instruments creating the sound that throws Beca practically into Chloe's lap, as the mask-wearing, mute half-giant steps out from a room to the left to grab the woman by the hair and pull her roughly backwards. Chloe lets out a little noise of surprise before sliding an arm around Beca's shoulder and pulling her close. The brunette presses her face into Chloe's neck and snaps an arm around her middle, digging her fingertips into Chloe's side. She's too terrified to think, not that she'll ever admit that. Ever. To anyone. And she'll vehemently deny that **this** ever happened if it's ever brought up.

 

“Do you need me to turn it off?” Chloe asks and God, Beca hates that stupid smug tone, only she doesn't hate it at all.

 

“No,” she insists, turning her head just enough to peek out from her hiding spot. “It's fine, I'm fine. I want to finish- oh my G **od**!!” The woman who had been so close to gaining freedom receives a machete to the neck for her troubles and Beca flinches away from the image as blood begins to spray out from the wound, tightening her hold on Chloe and burrowing back into her neck. She can feel as well as hear Chloe's laughter and the heat rising to her cheeks, but she can't move to say anything biting. Can't unclench her fist.

 

“You know,” Chloe brings her other arm around until she can rest her hand on one of the knees Beca has tucked into Chloe's side, thoughtfully tapping the top of it. “This is why horror movies are popular date night movies.” Beca frowns, her breath washing over Chloe's skin.

 

“What's why?” The hand at her shoulder pulls her closer and it clicks. “Oh.” Heart still pounding, Beca lifts her head until she's looking at Chloe. The glow from the television casts her half in shadow, but her eyes glitter, bright as ever. They're all but wrapped around each other and every place that they're touching feels warm to Beca. She wonders if Chloe feels that too. On screen, someone is screaming, but Chloe's smiling and suddenly that's all there is. The sight of it curves Beca's mouth and she feels her heart rate spike, thumping to a different beat. “Chloe,” she whispers, eyes flickering back and forth between Chloe's, watching them dance, “was this all just an elaborate ruse for **you** to get close to **me**?” The redhead sighs dramatically, tipping her head back and then letting it loll forward again. Her smile has shifted into a smirk and she wrinkles her nose.

 

“Mm, yes,” she drawls, shameless, and bites the edge of her lip. Brilliant blue eyes drop to Beca's mouth and it's only for an instant, but it's enough for an unspoken challenge to be made. Beca waits only long enough for Chloe to start giggling and then she leans in to press their lips together, accepting the challenge without a word. 


End file.
